Don't Say A Word
by Zarathustrian
Summary: Pam's mind wanders as Tara moves through the crowd at Fangtasia. One-shot.


The dance floor thrived as if it were a living being. Ironic, considering its owner was dead. Pamela Sywnford De Beautfort swept her pale blue eyes across the expanse before her. From vampires and their fang-bangers to goths and their dates or just some tourist looking for shits and giggles, Fangtasia thrummed with activity. In spite of the constant movement, Pam's gaze was never far from the dark-skinned woman who suddenly appeared, walking through the crowd that seemed to part for her as each step she took exuded confidence. Even Pam knew that before her death, Tara Thornton had rarely raised her head as she walked, particularly in the last several years. Noticing the corset Tara wore spiked the older vampire's interest though not a soul would have known as her expression never wavered. Tara threw a nonchalant glance in Pam's direction which earned her a single raised eyebrow in return.

Reaching the small podium, Tara reached with one hand for the stripper pole and tugged herself upwards. Swinging, she met Pam's gaze. Now, making no effort to disguise her interest, Pam lent forward in Eric's chair. Legs gracefully crossed, one elbow resting upon the armrest Pam suddenly realized how potentially vulnerable she may look to others and turned her expression neutral as she drummed polished nails on the other armrest.

Tara continued her slow turns, at all times keeping her eyes upon her maker's. Enhanced speed saw her shimmy up the pole before sliding slowly down. Pam's lips parted and her tongue traced across her top lip. Uncrossing her legs she inched closer to the edge of her seat. Suddenly it seemed too crowded in the bar. Rising Pam gestured for the DJ to silence the music, drawing protesting shouts from the many dancers.

"Shut the fuck up. Bar's closed. Get the fuck out." Pam's thick drawl echoed through the room. For a second, silence followed and not a soul moved. "Now, motherfuckers!" At that, the tourists scattered, the goths begrudgingly dragged their feet to the exit and the vampires sneered as they departed with fang-bangers in tow.

With every customer having left, only the bar staff and Ginger remained. Pam practically growled at the staff who promptly left as she turned her attention to Ginger.  
"Be a dear Ginger. And fuck off." The platinum blonde squeaked as she scampered away, out of sight and out of mind to Pam as she bore her gaze into Tara. Uncertainly, the young woman stepped off the podium and dipped her head before she began walking away. In a flash, Pam was behind her.

"Not you." Pam hissed in Tara's ear. The woman froze, her entire body tensing. There was nothing, no audio cues to give Tara even a hint of Pam's intentions. No soft breath on the nape of her neck, no hitched breathing to reveal Pam's arousal nor Tara's. Which was why, when Pam's lips pressed against her bare shoulder, Tara gasped. Stunned, she remained frozen on the spot. Pam's hand was suddenly at her neck, nails digging into her flesh and only then did Tara react, jerky slightly.

With a slightly forceful push, Pam tilted Tara's head to one side effectively exposing the elegant length of her neck. Having only imagined how sweet her progeny had tasted in the privacy of her own coffin, Pam almost could not contain the low moan which threatened to slip past her lips. As it was, she hummed softly as her lips caressed the soft, smooth skin of the vampire in her arms. Tara made no effort to stop the sigh of delight as she found herself melting back against the woman. Pam's other hand had rest lightly against her hip up until that moment. Yet as Tara had fallen back against her, Pam moved her hand slowly across Tara's taut abdomen, the lace of the corset tickling her fingertips. Lowering her touch Pam smirked as she found herself greeted by dampness.

"Fuck, yes." Tara whimpered as Pam's hand lingered upon her. In that moment Pam decided the young woman was far too at ease. Calling on her advanced speed, there was nothing but a blur to the naked eye as maker drug progeny to the counter of the bar, pushing her into a sitting position. Pushing Tara's thighs apart, Pam stood between them, feet apart and a defiant glimmer to her eye.  
"You will not speak. Speak again and I will stop. Regardless of where I am," Pam's gaze fluttered downwards, "Or what I am doing." She met Tara's gaze again. "Do I make myself clear?" There was only the slightest hint of fear in Tara's gaze and for a moment Pam almost considered softening her tone. Tara had been spoken to harshly by more than enough people, herself included, in the past. And although Tara certainly had no idea as to the images running through the blonde's mind, had she known she would not have feared them.

The look disappeared however as Tara seemed to suddenly catch on and she nodded slowly. Sitting meekly on the countertop, Tara kept her mouth shut. For once, Pam mused. Placing one hand on Tara's thigh and the other at the base of her throat, Pam lent forward. Their lips met and all of the rough display Pam portrayed seemed to melt away as she lost herself in the embrace. Tara's lips were softer than her skin, divine and delicious. Snaking her tongue into Tara's mouth, Pam chose to ignore the aroused moan that rose in the back of Tara's throat. The hand that rest so casually upon Tara's thigh gradually inched closer to the source of the dampness Pam had felt earlier. Tara struggled to contain herself as she felt Pam's fingertips slid across her. The urge to cry out, to writhe at the touch, to beg for more was almost too much to bear but she would not make a sound. The very real threat Pam had given of bringing this unexpected delight was enough to keep the young woman still, silent.

The older vamp had to admit she was impressed. Had the tables been turned, and Pam knew then she wanted them to at some stage, she would be screaming in ecstasy herself. A wicked grin curled one corner of her mouth. How much, she wondered, could her progeny endure before she broke down? Withdrawing her hand, Pam waited. No response. Taking a single step back she then rest her hands upon those strong shoulders and trailed downward, over the top of the corset and beyond, holding Tara's ample breasts in her hands. Flicking thumbs over the erect nipples, Pam was almost certain the tiniest of gasps escape Tara yet when she glanced up, Tara's expression had not changed. Defiant. Of course. It was one of the many qualities she had come to appreciate in this woman. Leaving one hand where it was, Pam let the other wander freely. Dipping and rising across Tara's body, Pam took her time in removing the corset. Tossing it aside she made short work of the straps clamped to the garter, the matching underwear also torn from Tara's body until finally she sat naked before Pam.

Drinking in the view Pam's lips curled into an almost predatory smile. This body was hers to do with as she pleased though even Pam knew enough to keep these possessive thoughts to herself. Tara belonged to no one, or at least that was exactly what she imagined the stubborn woman would gladly point out. It was enough for Pam knowing that at that very moment, Tara was giving complete control to her maker without being commanded to do so.

Continuing her tirade on Tara's flesh, Pam traced patterns languidly, adding the occasional flick here and there. Touching only went so far and Pam finally brought her lips to retrace the places her fingers had visited. The moment Pam's mouth wrapped around one swollen nipple, Tara arched back and let her head roll as her mouth parted. It took every enhanced ounce of strength she owned not to scream, to beg and plead with her maker. Tara had never felt such desire, such yearning for anything else in her life. All she could imagine was Pam's mouth upon her, Pam's tongue teasing her. Pamela couldn't wipe the smug grin from her face as she watched Tara squirm. Mouth watering she almost ended her game there and then. It was too soon, she told herself, and too much fun. Until Tara pleaded she would not surrender.

Taking two steps back suddenly Pam broke all contact between them. Tara practically tumbled off the counter top and glared as she regained her balance. Casually Pam reached for a bar stool and positioned it where she'd been standing before taking a seat. Getting on her knees was not something she did for anyone, ever. Tara was no exception. Placing her hands upon Tara's knees, Pam held eye contact for a minute, then another. Still, nothing. Lowering her head, Pam finally broke their locked gazes as she slipped her tongue over Tara's inner thigh. Slowly Pam brought her touch closer to Tara's slicked curls and hesitated. Tara quivered but did not make a sound. Slipping her tongue over the engorged nub, Pam was stunned when still Tara did not make a single sound. Game, set, match, Pam thought. Or was it?

Without warning, she entered Tara, penetrating her deeply. When Pam heard Tara's fangs click she almost considered stopping, just to torment the young woman. It was an evil thought that made her smile as she remained where she was. Tara's hips gyrated forwards as Pam increased her tempo. Knowing just how truly awesome the first time after being turned was, Pam's demeanor changed. The appeal of challenge lost, Pam realized all she wanted was to bring pleasure to the woman before her and deep down she knew she'd felt this way for quite some time. Softly she slowed herself and had Tara had a heart rate, she would have heard it ease into a steady rhythm. Instead she could only judge by Tara's movements slowing that Tara too wanted this to last. One finger entered the woman, replacing the space Pam's tongue had filled only a moment early. As she did so she felt Tara's hand weave into her curls, holding her in place. Moaning softly against Tara's clit, Pam snaked her tongue out gradually building in tempo.

"Pam!" Tara cried out, nails digging into the back of Pam's head. Feeling the woman's inner muscles begin to tense, Pam slowed herself again. "No! Please, please don't stop." Tara whimpered softly, easing her grip as if she felt she'd crossed a line, as if she understood Pam was completely in control. Pam's free hand swiftly took ahold of Tara's, fingers linking together as Pam resumed. Tara groaned as she arched back again, releasing her grip on the back of Pam's head and using it to brace herself upon the counter. "Fuck, yes." Tara's voice was barely above a whisper. Pam added a second, then a third finger into Tara and used her entire tongue to slid across the wetness. Thrusting hard, Pam felt Tara contract, she felt everything go completely still for that brief moment before Tara tumbled over the edge of orgasm, screaming her maker's name. Pam could not get enough of the pulsing against her tongue and pressed harder again. When Tara cried out in surprise Pam did not stop. A second orgasm struck the gorgeous woman and she spasmed upon the bar, driving herself more into Pam's eager mouth.

Collapsing back, as if somehow her inhuman strength had failed her, Tara threw one arm across her face while the other hung down limply. With Tara in recovery, Pam stood and straightened the Japanese-style dress she wore before smoothing her little finger across her bottom lip, meeting Tara's gaze before licking the finger. Tara moaned as she let her eyes close again. Pam knew the gesture had caused her progeny to pulse once more.

"That was," Tara slowly inched herself up on her elbows. "Fucking amazing."  
"You don't say." Pam quirked an eyebrow to the indentations in the wooden bar neither of them had noticed until that moment.  
"I'll get that fixed..." Tara trailed off, suddenly worried once more. Pam could so easily eviserate her with some spiteful remark. Instead the older vampire shrugged it off.  
"Leave it." She tried to sound flippant about it yet the almost nostalgic look in her eye told Tara otherwise.

"Pam." The blonde blinked suddenly and was instantly back on Eric's throne, Fangtasia once again filled to capacity with customers. Deeply embarrassed, Pam met the gaze of Ginger who stood staring, open-mouthed, at her master. Sneering, Pam rose and shoved the blood bag aside. It did not matter how many years Ginger had been with her, there were still times when the sight of the woman's face made her skin crawl. Looking over at Tara, Pam's head turned to the entrance at the same time as Tara's. A woman whose face was vaguely familiar entered and when the woman, clad in a floral dress and matching hat approached Tara, Pam knew her to be Tara's mother.

Before the older Thornton began to speak, Pam pitched a barely audible sigh. The night dream she'd lost herself in had lasted, at best, a split second. Yet before she pushed the images to the back of her mind, she let her tongue dart out across her lips, almost certain she would taste Tara there. Disappointed to discover nothing but the unappealing taste of lipstick, Pam turned her full attention to the display unfolding before her.

- Fin -


End file.
